


Mysterious Support

by aislingdoheanta



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anxiety, M/M, Wrong Number AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-13 00:47:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10502940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aislingdoheanta/pseuds/aislingdoheanta
Summary: A few months ago Yuuri received a message from a random number. He would have assumed it was a wrong number but they asked about his routine, so he assumed that he'd forgotten to save someone's number. Months later, they're still talking and thanks to Yuuri's anxiety he's no closer to figuring out who they are. But sometimes it doesn't matter who they are so much as if they're there for you.A canon-divergent Wrong Number AU.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [magicranberries](https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicranberries/gifts).



> Written for the [Fandom Trumps Hate](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Fandom_Trumps_Hate_2017) auction.
> 
> For [magicranberries](https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicranberries) who asked for some type of Wrong Number AU. I hope you like it!

_Have you been practicing your jumps?_

Yuuri glanced at his phone, trying not to feel guilty that he was letting them down. _Yes, but they haven’t been going well._

_You just need to relax. You’re putting too much pressure on yourself_.

Yuuri pressed his face into his hands because of course he was putting too much pressure on himself. It’s why he flubbed them so badly and so quickly in competitions. It’s partly—mostly—due to his anxiety and it doesn’t help that his Russian coach constantly pointed it out.

_It’s the Grand Prix_ , Yuuri typed instead. He wasn’t sure what else he should even add.

“Who’re you texting?” Mari asked Yuuri.

“No one.”

“That still your mysterious life coach?” Mari asked.

“They’re not mysterious. And they’re not my life coach. They just…give skating advice sometimes,” Yuuri told her.

Mari just stared at him. “But you still don’t know who it is?”

Yuuri frowned and felt his anxiety spike. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter. What if it’s a fellow competitor trying to psyche you out?”

“I don’t think so.” Yuuri shook his head.

“But you don’t know,” Mari argued. “Maybe that’s why they constantly ask you about your jumps.”

“Hey!” Yuuri clutched his phone close to his chest. “That was private.”

“You stared at it for so long, I was worried it had turned you into a statue,” Mari said.

“They’re…They just know that I struggle with my jumps. It’s not like it’s a secret,” Yuuri said.

Mari sighed and put her arm around him. “Hey. You’re an amazing skater. It’s just a little bit of nerves. Everyone gets them.”

“Victor doesn’t,” Yuuri said.

Mari looked at him and Yuuri interrupted her before she could say anything. “He’s a legend—“

“I know, I know,” Mari said holding her hands up. “I know that he’s a legend.”

Yuuri smiled and looked down.

“But that doesn’t make you any less of one,” Mari said.

Yuuri sputtered.

“I know he’s your idol and he has been for years now, but you’re an amazing skater. Japan’s top male skater. You’re destined to make it to the Grand Prix this year!” Mari squeezed his shoulder and walked away.

Yuuri went to his room and threw himself onto his bed. That was what he was afraid of. He wanted to make it to the Grand Prix. He wanted to prove to everyone that their faith in him was worth it.

He turned his head and glanced at the posters of Victor Nikiforov on his walls. His sister was right; he shouldn’t compare himself to Victor. Yuuri wasn’t even in the same _league_ as Victor. He was a skating legend, winning the last few Grand Prix golds in a row. Not to mention Worlds. Yuuri didn’t even deserve to skate on the same ice as Victor, let alone the same category.

_You can do this. I have faith in you_ J

Yuuri smiled at his phone and mentally thanked his Russian coach. They had texted Yuuri randomly after a competition a few months ago. Yuuri would have assumed it was a wrong number but they’d asked about his routine and how his ankle was doing. Yuuri had accidentally stepped on the metal track between the ice and the kiss and cry which caused him to stumble and twist his ankle. It wasn’t too bad; he barely needed any rest or ice and it had happened at the end of the competition. All he had to get through was Celestino telling him that he should consider wearing contacts just so he could at least see a little bit while on the ice.

Yuuri didn’t want to because that would mean being able to see, really see, just how many people were in the stands. His anxiety was already pretty bad and he could only imagine how much worse it would be if he could make out the signs at the back of the stands cheering on Victor or J.J..

But that text had come through and Yuuri had assumed that it was a contact of Celestino’s so he’d responded. Celestino never brought it up—probably knowing Yuuri’s anxiety and the fact that he wouldn’t want everyone knowing that Celestino had given him a private coach as well. Yuuri had sort of assumed _some_ sort of identity would have been revealed, but Celestino had remained quiet on the matter.

As had his mysterious stranger. Not even a hint of who they were, but they clearly knew him. It had taken Yuuri a long time to summon the courage to ask who they were. So long, in fact, that almost 9 months had gone by from that first text message and it seemed a bit too late to even bother bringing it up at all.

Yuuri had just accepted his strange little coach who typed in Russian—which forced Yuuri to translate everything in google translate and then translate his answers back into Russian since his Russian wasn’t that great. He had a lot of the basics down and could speak it decently but typing, writing, and reading in Russian was still something he was learning. A bit more quickly now that he was conversing semi-regularly in Russian.

_Thanks. Will you be there this weekend?_ Yuuri waited for a response.

_Yes…_

_Watch for me?_ Yuuri pressed send before he could second guess himself.

_Of course. But don’t forget that you have a whole team there for you too._

Yuuri wanted to ask if they could meet, if he could finally put a face to this unnamed number in his phone but he couldn’t.

_Good luck_ his mysterious person texted.

_You too._ Yuuri groaned after his message because why would you wish good luck to someone who was just going to watch? They probably think he was a fool and Yuuri honestly wouldn’t blame them.

_Thanks_. J

Yuuri smiled down at his phone and felt happy—and only a little nervous—that there would be someone physically in the stands watching him.

* * *

Yuuri walked into the hotel room feeling Celestino’s eyes on him. Thankfully his coach didn’t say anything. There was nothing he could say that hadn’t been said already.

He’d flubbed his jump. _Again._

Yuuri dropped his bag and flopped onto the bed, hugging his pillow close. He was never going to land his jumps.

Hot tears pricked at his eyes and his throat got tight as he replayed the scene in his mind—there had been hundreds of posts and tweets about his performance already. He didn’t want to be present when they started writing the articles about how his anxiety couldn’t take it and how he didn’t have the right temperament to be a skater.

Yuuri had worked so hard for so long to be here and for what? He wasn’t good enough. No matter how hard he practiced, it wasn’t enough when it mattered.

He wasn’t good enough to skate on Victor’s level. The man hadn’t even recognized him after the results. Yuuri had been a fool to think that he’d ever be able to be on the same level as Victor.

His phone chimed and he didn’t feel like answering it. He knew it might be his mother calling him back after his phone call to her earlier. She always knew when to give him some space and when to push him. Yuuri missed her. He missed his entire family.

He wanted to go home. But going home felt like a failure. He’d come home after pursuing this for years with nothing to show for it.

His phone chimed again.

Yuuri reached down to pull the phone from his pocket and unlocked it. It was a message form Phichit. Yuuri didn’t answer. He didn’t want to. He wanted to go to sleep and not be around all those amazing skaters who knew what they were doing and did it hundreds of times better than him.

He did click on his Russian number, his fingers hesitating on the keys. _How do you handle a bad performance?_

_I don’t think you did badly at all. You’re too hard on yourself._

Yuuri sighed and shook his head. It wasn’t helpful if the people around him wouldn’t even acknowledge his failings. He fell. Right out of a jump. His arm landed on the ice. It would have been impossible to miss. He placed sixth—last out of everyone—over 100 points behind Victor.

_All you can do is focus on what you need to work on and remember all the things you did well._

Yuuri stared down at his phone and swallowed. _What if it feels like you haven’t done anything well?_

_Then you’re not an impartial judge. You have to ask people around you what you did well. I know how easy it is to get caught up in all the ways you can improve, but I don’t want that for you. I want you to still enjoy skating and part of that means remembering why you love it._

The words gave Yuuri pause. Did he love skating anymore? Was this lack of passion depression, something due to missing his family, grief over his dog’s death, or just because he didn’t have the same drive for skating anymore?

_I guess that’s something to think about. Thank you._

There was a smiley face in response.

Yuuri pulled himself out of bed and decided to get up. He would go to the banquet because Celestino would want him to. He wouldn’t want Yuuri to lose himself up here until it was time to go back to Detroit.

* * *

Yuuri had felt good up until Yuko called him to tell him about the video. He really hadn’t wanted anyone watching that. It had been very personal and a plea to himself, the ice, whoever was listening to help him find his passion again. He had, thanks to Victor. It was always thanks to Victor.

Victor Nikiforov had always inspired Yuuri. He was the greatest skater to ever exist and it was mesmerizing to watch him. He had just wanted to feel that again, the way he had when he was younger.

And now, everyone with access to the internet could see it. There were articles written about Yuuri losing his edge by copying Victor’s routines and also those saying that he skates so beautifully when no one was looking. There were even some less than flattering responses on how he _tried_ to skate Victor’s routing, alluding to the fact that he failed. He honestly wasn’t sure which one of them was more irritating.

His phone chimed. His Russian friend had sent him a link to the video with about 20 emoji’s attached to it. Yuuri felt his face burn.

_It wasn’t supposed to be recorded. It’s not so bad, is it?_

There was a brief hesitation before another 20 emoji’s followed by:  _Of course not. It’s amazing!_

Yuuir hesitated before typing: _I know what some of the people are saying, but I wasn’t trying to compare myself to Victor. I know that I’ll never be on his level._

There was a long pause before they responded. _I wouldn’t say that._

Yuuri felt a weight break free from his chest and felt like he could finally breathe again. It had been worrying him all day that Victor would be disgusted or irritated that a Japanese no-one who was a little overweight skated to his routine.

His friend didn’t say anything more and Yuuri felt uncomfortable talking about himself so much. He put his phone in his pocket and picked up his bag so he could go back to the ice rink. He was going to keep skating and getting back in shape, that way he could decide when the season was closer to starting whether he wanted to do another season or not.

* * *

_Victor retired from skating!!_

Yuuri stared at the message from Phichit for a long time before realizing that he hadn’t responded yet. The only thing he could think of was:  _?!_

_That’s all you have to say? People are freaking out. There’s some people in Russia who are in mourning over this. This is going to open up the competition for everyone this year! You have to compete Yuuri! You could take gold in the Grand Prix!_ Phichit’s message was followed with seven hearts.

_I don’t know Phichit. We’ll see._

Yuuri pocketed his phone and continued his walk back to the resort. He was tired because Minako had worked him very hard today in trying to get him back in shape—ballerina shape which she says was even more intense than skating shape. It was hard to argue with her when he was sore and exhausted.

Yuuri walked in and was pounced on by a poodle that looked just like Vicchan. “What?”

“Yuuri, isn’t he just like Vicchan?” his father asked walking up to him. “He came with a really good looking foreign guest.”

“A guest?” Yuuri asked, his mind whirling because Victor’s dog Makkachin looked just like the dog that was currently resting on his stomach. Could it actually be Victor Nikiforov? No.

Right?

Logically Yuuri knew that it was highly unlikely that his idol would just so happen to choose his parents’ resort to vacation, but his mind couldn’t help but conjure the possibility.

“Victor Nikiforov,” his mother said with a smile. She was carrying a tray with tea. “He went out to the hot springs after I told him you wouldn’t be home for a while yet.”

“V-Victor?” Yuuri asked.

His mother smiled at him, her eyes gentle and kind as they always were. She knew how much Victor meant to him. She had been there with him while watching every competition. She’d been right beside him cheering Victor on just as intensely as Yuuri had for all those years.

She would know if it really was Victor. She waved him off. “Go! He’s waiting for you.”

He took off toward the hot springs, running through the halls and passed everyone in the resort. What was Victor doing here? Why would he be here? Why would he be asking about Yuuri?

Yuuri froze on the threshold to the hot springs because _what if Victor saw the video?_ What if he was here to yell at Yuuri for trying to skate to his routine? Or worse, what if he was here to talk about the video at all?

He really didn’t want to get into it. He honestly would prefer to never know if Victor had ever seen the video because it was mortifying and if he could he would just rather everyone forgot about it.

He took a deep breath and pushed through the doors and nearly opened them right on Victor.

“Ah! Yuuri!” Victor greeted with a smile. “You’re back!”

Victor was wearing one of the green robes from the resort with a white towel around his neck. Yuuri couldn’t swallow. He was much prettier in person.

“I have come to be your coach!”

Yuuri shook his head. “What?”

“Your coach?” Victor said, tilting his head. “Did you not want me to?”

Yuuri shook his head and his hands at Victor. “No! Of course I want you to. You can. I will. Be my coach?! Why?”

Victor just smiled at him and pulled his phone out of the pocket of the robe. He unlocked it and showed Yuuri his messages. Yuuri didn’t understand until he saw the ones that matched the ones on his phone as well.

“You…”

Victor nodded. “I had gotten my Yuri’s mixed up and didn’t know until the last message.”

Yuuri’s face burned and looked down, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry. I should have realized you weren’t talking to me.”

Victor just laughed but it wasn’t unkind. He reached out and gripped Yuuri’s shoulder. Yuuri froze because this was not how his day was supposed to go. His idol, the reason he fell in love with skating in the first place wasn’t supposed to be here, at Yu-topia, offering to be Yuuri’s coach. Those things don’t happen for him.

“It’s no problem. I should have realized. Yuri Plisetsky is very temperamental. I just thought he was different over text messages than in person. He must have been very confused with me!” Victor squeezed his shoulder again before letting go.

“Why?” Yuuri asked softly. “Why would you want to be my coach? I’m no one.”

Victor frowned at him. “You are a wonderful skater. You skated my routine almost better than I did myself.”

“I didn’t,” Yuuri argued. “I can’t hit the quads and I don’t have the showmanship.”

Victor shook his head. “You captured the _feeling_ of it. And I’ve seen you skate a few times and you have the technique and step sequences down. That’s amazing.”

Yuuri couldn’t help but smile a little though he still felt like throwing up. Victor was complimenting him on his skating. “You really want to be my coach?”

“Yes.”

“But what about your career?”

Victor shrugged. “I think it’s time for me to do something else. At least for now.”

Yuuri could only nod. “Okay. I can do for now.”

**Author's Note:**

> I love Yuri!!! on Ice! I hope I did them justice! Come talk to me on [tumblr](http://saras-almanac.tumblr.com/) if you'd like!


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